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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22473682">Quies</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanctuary_for_all/pseuds/sanctuary_for_all'>sanctuary_for_all</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Prodigal Son (TV 2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Future Fic, I don't know how they got together yet they just did, Nightmares, Sleeping Together</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 10:35:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>963</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22473682</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanctuary_for_all/pseuds/sanctuary_for_all</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>With his night terrors, Malcolm always thought no one would ever want to risk spending the night with him. (Established relationship future flash)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Malcolm Bright/Edrisa Tanaka</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>102</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Quies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>He was a child again, struggling to free his small arms from the manacles attached to the wall of his father’s murder room. Ainsley was next to him, sobbing in her own chains, while his mother had been manacled across the room. She was throwing herself against her chains, begging him to look only at her, not at his father. This was pure nightmare, not repressed memory, but that didn’t make the desperate, ragged edge to her voice any less clear. It didn’t quiet the broken cries of his little sister, who hung in her chains like a rag doll. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It didn’t stop his gaze from being pulled away from his mother when his father stepped into the room. “Well, here we are.” His smile was the same as it had always been as he rubbed his hands together. “A proper—” </em>
</p><p>“Malcolm!” A crack across his cheek, wonderfully, painfully real. “Wake up!”</p><p> Malcolm’s eyes flew open to reveal his darkened bedroom, Edrisa kneeling over him with a worried expression on her face. The only manacles on his wrists were the leather cuffs she’d helped him put on before they’d fallen asleep, and the practical part of his brain was grateful that he hadn’t been so caught up in the romance that he’d tried to pretend normalcy. If he’d gone after <em>her </em>with a knife, even trapped in a nightmare, he never would have forgiven himself.</p><p>He’d already have enough trouble forgiving himself for <em>this</em>. He’d known he shouldn’t risk it, should have arranged to have this happen at her apartment and then gone home or kicked himself out of bed and locked himself in the bathroom or <em>something</em>.  He’d always known he couldn’t have this part of a real life, but Edrisa made him feel so understood that he’d let himself forget that. He’d let himself hope, especially after how amazing last night had been. If the particular shade of pre-dawn light he could see through the edge of window was any indication, he’d even <em>slept</em>.</p><p>And now he’d ruined it.</p><p>He squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m so sorry,” he breathed, horrified and ashamed of himself. “I’ve been told the couch is very comfortable. You can take the blankets, if you want.”</p><p>She went still above him. “You want me to take the couch?”</p><p>His eyes snapped open again at the waver in her voice, as aware of her fragile places by now as he was his own. “No! Of course not.” He stared up into her eyes, knowing she couldn’t see the nuances in his expression without her glasses. So he let it all out into his voice, giving her the honesty he still struggled with far too often in the daylight. “I love having you here. But if you stay, odds are I’ll wake you up again. And if <em>I</em> take the couch, there's too much of a chance I'll do something dangerous in the middle of my next nightmare.”</p><p>She frowned, peering down at him. “And if I don’t stay, you’ll be <em>stuck</em> in your next nightmare until you either jerk yourself awake or something even worse happens. I like that idea even less than I do losing more sleep.”</p><p>His throat tightened at the simple acceptance in her voice. “That’s not fair to you.”</p><p>She must have heard everything she needed to in <em>his</em> voice, because her lips curved upward in a slow smile that always reminded him of sunlight. “It’s okay.” She settled back against him in the same place she’d fallen asleep, arm wrapped around his middle and head resting against his heart. “And don't worry about this being fair. I stare at your butt enough throughout the day to make up for any sleep I lose. It's more of a stimulant than morning coffee.”</p><p>That startled a laugh out of him, his own lips curving as her warmth settled through him. “Stare away.”</p><p>Malcolm felt her smile against his skin. “Oh, I will.”</p><p>It was far more of a fantasy than he’d ever allowed himself, enough that he might think it was a hallucination if his brain had ever been this kind to him. Being able to wrap his arms around her right now was the only thing that was missing, and in that moment he wanted to so badly it was a physical ache in his chest.</p><p>But he couldn’t put her at risk like that, so he held her in the only way he could. “I do my own staring, you know. You have incredible legs.”</p><p>She let out a breath. “You don’t have to say that.”</p><p>He wanted to, though. Over and over again until he eased some of the damaged places inside her the way she’d done with his. “I’m professionally obligated to tell the truth. That means I do, in fact, <em>have</em> to honor your legs for the wonders that they are.”</p><p>She poked his stomach. “They’re short.”</p><p>Oh, <em>that </em>was hardly a counterargument. “That just means they have less distance to achieve perfection. The fact that they still manage it is even more impressive.”</p><p>Edrisa was silent for a long moment, enough that Malcolm half wonders if she’s finally fallen asleep again. Then, gently, she tightens her arms around him. “I do have some tighter pants I could wear to work,” she said quietly, a hopeful edge to her voice he recognized down to his bones.</p><p>He smiled. “I would consider it a personal favor.”</p><p>After a long moment, she pressed the gentlest of kisses against his chest. “See?” she murmured. “Nightmares are nothing.”</p><p>Malcolm swallowed back against the words that suddenly rose up, knowing that it was far, far too fast. Still, there was something he <em>could</em> say. “Thank you,” he whispered.</p><p>He felt her smile again. “Any time.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Come check out my <a href="https://jennifferwardell.wixsite.com/mybooks">original fiction,</a> my <a href="http://jennifferwardell.blogspot.com">blog,</a> or say hi to me on <a href="http://sanctuaryforalluniverses.tumblr.com">Tumblr</a>!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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